


Oh, Brother!

by Fierceawakening



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:55:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21905587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fierceawakening/pseuds/Fierceawakening
Summary: Holiday giftfic for Ilya_Boltagon who really wanted to see my take on Thanos's little brother.Eros, who survived the destruction of Titan, has been following the Black Order around trying to figure out what his older brother is up to. All goes well until Proxima notices a particularly handsome, roguish stranger looking at her, and isn't sure that's quite the flirty stare it looks like...
Comments: 28
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly divergent from what I'm doing in the main verse of CoT because I'd already had headcanon for Thanos's past before I even knew he canonically HAD a brother.
> 
> This is the first installment of two I'm planning. Second should go up around New Year's. 
> 
> And yes, Chinface will be in it. :-)
> 
> As in other fics, spoken/written Titan (as opposed to languages translatable by standard implants) is indicated by... er... pointy things AO3 doesn't like me using in this text box and italics.

“ _< The tall one is staring at us.>_” Proxima Midnight tilts her head in the direction of a man sitting in a nearby corner. He has pale pink skin and his hair is a tousled shock of deep red. It looks like he’s just come in out of the wind, but they’ve been sitting here for some time and she didn’t see him come in.

He looks back at her and smiles, wide and friendly. It’s disarming, and Proxima blinks back at him, confused.

 _“ <Smiling at us,>” _she amends, turning back to her siblings and shaking her head.

Cull grunts a laugh. “ _< Idiot. Must not know who we are.>”_

 _“ <Who doesn’t know who we are?>” _says Gamora. She snickers too but doesn’t bother to look over. Nebula, sitting beside her, looks thoughtful but doesn’t say anything.

“ _< Most beings know of us,>_” Ebony Maw says, looking up from a small plate of vegetables and folding his hands.

“ _< That’s why most beings would be gawking at us, yes,>”_ Corvus says, sliding a little bit closer to Proxima. “ _< But with that expression?>_”

Cull shrugs. “ _< Maybe we slaughtered his enemies for him.>_” He picks up a bloody bit of meat from his plate, the heart of some creature Proxima should recognize by now. He bites it in half and sits back like he’s more interested in eating than talking.

“ _< Possible,>” _Nebula says. “ _< We do kill a lot of people.>”_

 _< Maybe. I doubt he’d walk up to us and say thanks,>” _Proxima says, ignoring her food to keep squinting at Mysterious’s corner. _“ <I don’t know.>”_

“ _< Nor do I,>” _Corvus says. There’s an edge of anger in his voice, and Proxima blinks. Surely he doesn’t think she’s interested. “ _< If I didn’t know this language isn’t in translator implants, I’d suspect he was—>”_

 _“ <Eavesdropping,>” _the Maw finishes for him.

Nebula tilts her head. That means she just thought of something, but what’s going on in her sister’s half-metallic brain Proxima can’t guess. Corvus could probably figure it out, but he still looks out of sorts. Like he thinks she’s interested in this guy, when clearly she just thinks he’s interesting. She nudges him in irritation, but when he turns to look at her, Nebula is already talking again.

_“ <Is everyone prepared to head to Parthax in the morning?>”_

Proxima blinks. Parthax? Why is she mentioning Parthax?

 _“ <We’re not—>"_ says Cull. The Maw cuts him off with a jab to one of his ribs.

The stranger is still looking at them, but his eyes are wide. He’s still smiling, but it looks a little like it might slide off his face.

 _“ <All right, so he’s eavesdropping,>”_ says Gamora, already drawing a knife. _“ <So now what do we do about it?>” _

###

“You understood us,” Ebony Maw says. He’s hovering a little off the ground and the bar’s shutters are rattling. Gamora is rolling her eyes, but everyone in the Order has little things they do to scare off nosy idiots. “How?”

This particular nosy idiot doesn’t look very scared. Proxima huffs in irritation, and he flashes that disarming smile. But this time he’s looking at the Maw, not at her. She scowls. _Everybody’s always paying attention to him._

“Hey,” the stranger says, and waves a hand, apparently trying to be placating. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Nebula steps forward. “What I said startled you. Why would it, unless you understood me?”

“I… uh… no. I don’t know what you said. I just… I caught something about Parthax.”

“That could be… plausible,” says Ebony Maw. “But…”

“I’ve got friends there,” the stranger says.

Corvus squints at him. Proxima snorts, then bites off whatever she was about to say. _This isn’t just about me looking at this guy, is it?_

“You’re not afraid of us,” Corvus says.

“Hey. What’s this about being afraid? We’re just talking.”

Corvus doesn’t answer.

“If you had friends on Parthax, you would’ve looked worried sooner.” Proxima frowns. She speaks for Corvus all the time, just as he speaks for her. They've known each other’s mind for almost as long as they've known each other. But it’s not like him to just stop talking without even glancing at her first. She fixes the stranger with an angry glare.

His lips twitch but he’s still smiling a little. Proxima clenches a fist. That look on his face fascinated her before. And he’s still attractive. But now she just wants to sock him in the jaw. Especially for making Corvus doubt her.

“She’s right,” says Cull. He smacks his palm with a massive fist. _“ <Who the hell are you?>” _

Ebony Maw glowers at him too. But he doesn’t say anything. He just hovers there until even Cull is frowning at him.

“You’re pretty good at pretending to be an idiot,” says Gamora. “But you’re not.”

“Hey,” Mysterious says. “Calm down.”

_Is that the only thing you know how to say?_

And yet it seems a little silly, rushing out here with all her siblings, on full alert just to handle one man. When was the last time she let herself relax?

Ebony Maw hovers closer. “He has a point. We do not want a brawl.”

“ _< Like runny Klarg shit we don’t!>” _growls Cull. “ _< You’re the one who confronted him!>”_

Ebony Maw blinks. He was making one of his hand gestures—the one he uses a lot in the meditation room, when he’s trying to get people to stop bickering and concentrate. But now his fingers curl halfway, not meeting each other, like he forgot which sign he meant to make.

It looks ridiculous. Proxima snickers. Corvus just frowns. That means he doesn’t like this, and from what Proxima can tell he shouldn’t. She grips her spear tighter and glowers at the stranger, trying not to stare too hard in case that’s how he’s doing… whatever he’s doing.

Ebony Maw puts his hands down. He drops them to his sides like he’s not sure what to do with them. Proxima has just enough time to stifle a laugh before his face twists into its usual sneer.

Cull is less amused. He smacks a massive fist against his palm and rumbles a warning. “ _< Let him go!>”_

The stranger sighs. Then he shrugs.

The Maw blinks. His needles float free from his robes and form a glittering ring around him. “You are not welcome in my head.”

The stranger looks at the needles and whistles. “Yeah. I see that.” He holds up his hands just a little too late. Like the gesture of surrender is an afterthought. “I just… I’m not looking for a fight. Thought it might make more sense to tell you guys that directly. Guess I got that one wrong.”

_Corvus is right. You don’t fear us at all, do you?_

“Yeah,” Gamora’s hand moves to the blade at her belt. “You did get that one wrong.”

She doesn’t draw it. _Why isn’t she drawing it? He stopped. Didn’t he?_

 _“_ But you understood him,” Nebula says and tilts her head at Cull. Her hands are at her sides, but she’s gripping her batons and Proxima sees energy crackle over them. She gives her little sister an approving smirk but looks at the stranger warily. How many of her siblings can this man charm at once?

“No one speaks that language,” Ebony Maw says. “No one but us… and the One who sent us.”

“He’s right,” Cull says.

“It’s a dead language,” Nebula says. She lowers her head, the gesture solemn and automatic. But she doesn’t take her eyes off their potential enemy.

His grin falters. For the first time, Proxima thinks she sees something dark in his eyes.

Corvus is looking at him too, his weapon at the ready. _“ <What kind of ghost are you?>”_

The stranger flashes a grin. _“ <Put that thing down and I might tell you.>”_

Corvus glares at him and moves to strike. Proxima grins, but then he hesitates. What should have been a fluid attack becomes a strange, jerky motion. The look in his eyes softens. It reminds Proxima of the way he looks at her.

The blow never lands.

Proxima roars and launches herself at him. She readies her spear to throw. Once she lets go, it will speed toward her target. Whether or not she changes her mind.

Once she lets go.

Her hands tighten around it. Her grip is tight enough that it should hurt. But it doesn’t. She feels only warmth and weightlessness. Warmth and weightlessness… and an odd peace she remembers from a life she long ago forgot.

She straightens, spear held upright at her side like she's standing on ceremony. She feels her lips twitch, relaxes, and smiles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ebony Maw is a good obedient eldest son, and promptly comms Thanos to tell him the Order got trounced by Weird Guy. Thanos promptly notices something seems terribly familiar about the man who bested his Children...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, so this thing is apparently going to have THREE parts. Maybe even FOUR, though I'm pretty sure the brotherly banter can stay self-contained. Fweeee.
> 
> As mentioned before, this is giftfic for Ilya_Boltagon who really likes Eros and wanted my take on him. (And writes him pretty niftily herself. This surely owes a fair bit to her version of him. Go read her stuff you guys.)
> 
> Also as before, spoken Titan is italicized and enclosed in pointy things it won't let me put in work notes. Boo urns.

Ebony Maw slips out alone.

It’s unwise. He should not be here without his siblings. Not when that strange being disarmed every member of the Order, one after another, grinning as he bested them. He has no chance against that one if he is caught.

His lips pucker in distaste. That is weakness, and he is the first. The eldest of the Order and the eldest son of his lord father. To be reduced to sneaking out, clutching at his comm device as though he needed saving!

It shames him. And he has not known shame for a decade at least.

And yet. There is nothing else to be done. Not when all six of them could bring no challenge to this strange… man? With powers like that, he doubted such words applied. As much as his siblings vex him, even the least of them is a mighty warrior.

None of the Children of Thanos would back out of a battle once joined. And yet with little more than gestures he’d induced every one of them to lay down their arms.

And done nothing more. Simply told them to harm no one, and then let them be.

A demand he had no right to make, not of the Great Titan’s warriors. The sensory membranes at Maw’s temples pulse at the affront, as though detecting something foul.

But he and his siblings weren’t sent here to do battle. Not yet. So it is easy enough to do what the stranger wants—for now.

He cannot call it a fortunate coincidence. Not when he doesn’t know such a powerful being’s intent.

He looks down at his hands. They’d betrayed him. He’d felt… warmth, a soothing drowsiness that made it difficult to think. Or move of his own will. But for all that it had been… pleasant, and he had wanted his siblings to share in it. His fingers had curled into the sign for calm almost of their own volition.

Until Cull had interrupted. With a crude curse, but it had served its purpose, so he could not fault his sibling for that. Under the circumstances, it counted as protection.

And the stranger spoke Titan. Flawlessly, from what little he’d heard. Though his work gives him no time to devote to linguistics and Father is the only native speaker whose voice he’s ever heard.

He’s thought of at least four possible reasons why. None of them comforted him, and the worst… well. He sighs, more to force his head to clear than out of any particular emotion, and then taps at a small communication device hidden in the pattern of his sleeve.

His lord father’s image appears immediately, and he casts his eyes down in reverence. “Great Titan. I bear news.”

“So soon, my son? I hadn’t expected you to call for several days at least.”

“This was unexpected. We found that we were being watched.”

Father’s eyes narrow. Maw cannot tell if it’s in thought or in displeasure. “By whom?”

“I did not know him. Nor did my siblings. Bipedal, tall. Pale pink skin. Dark red hair, the color of iron-based blood.” Maw scowls. “From the way my siblings looked at him, attractive.”

“One man, and he crossed you?”

“Studied us, it seemed. Listened in to our conversation. _< Despite that we conducted it in Titan.>_”

Father blinks. “ _< He understood you?>_”

“He did. Nebula confirmed it.”

“Nebula.”

“She fed him a lie, which he believed.”

Father’s lip curls in distaste. Maw knows what that is about. Lying is necessary sometimes. Useful, at times like this. But better avoided, if possible.

But what his sibling did and how much should be forgiven her is not important now. “The stranger spoke to us in Titan himself soon after. From what I could discern… he had less of an accent than I do.”

Father’s countenance darkens. He makes a low sound.

“That is why I do not speak it now,” the Maw says, after a respectful pause. “I do not know what ears might take notice if I did.”

“He confronted you? Directly?”

“He did not engage. I led my siblings in confronting him.”

“Of course you did,” Father says, and nods. But Maw sees no pride in his expression, only a grim anger. He lowers his head in shame as Thanos asks, “He bested you, then?”

Maw nods again, his stomachs churning. “We were… disarmed. He possessed some strange power. We could not resist it.”

“Of what kind?”

“We were… compelled. Each of us attempted to attack him and—“

“Found that you could not.”

“Yes.”

Father closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh. When he opens them again and speaks, his voice is cold. “Mind control.”

“Our thoughts remained our own. What did not—“

“Were your emotions.”

“Yes,” Maw snarls, remembering. “He willed us to calm, and we fought against it. Nebula held out the longest, perhaps because of her neurological modifications. But in the end, even she succumbed. I watched her batons power down.”

He shakes his head. He should say nothing more, but the memory fills his head. A childish fear overtakes him, and he feels a need for comfort. “It felt… pleasant. Warm and heavy, and…”

“Soothing. As though you needed rest, and it was offered to you. As if no pain could touch you—as long as you gave in.”

Maw blinks once and stares at the projection. “You have felt it too, then.”

“Many times.”

“Then my guess was right. Another of your people lived.”

Thanos’s voice is heavy with emotion. “Yes.”

Not knowing what to say, Maw lets silence descend.

It is Father who breaks it. “You said your sister lied to him,” he says. As if this is a mission like any other. As if he is making his usual plans. “What did she say?”

“That our next purge would be on Parthax.”

Father cracks a smile. “Parthax.”

Maw permits himself to smile too. “It is preposterous.”

“But he believed it.”

“Yes.”

“He would.” Father strokes his chin in thought. “Very well then. Tell him that. That I’m going to Parthax, and will meet him in space, just outside the planet’s orbit.”

“You…” The Maw trails off, stunned. Another thought—a worse thought—saves him. “In space? But that will mean we cannot follow! Not unless we stay on the warship—“

“Son,” Thanos says, and his voice is tender. Maw looks up, obedient. “You did what you could. But this foe is beyond you.” His face twists in rage. “I do not want him anywhere near you. Or Gamora. Or any of my children.”

Maw nods, the gesture automatic.

“Or any of my Children anywhere near him. No matter how deep your concern. Do I make myself clear?”

Maw nods again, though his stomachs roil. This is another Titan! Can Father face him alone?

He tamps down the thought as soon as he has it. That is blasphemy. However easily this other Titan bested the Order, Father has remade himself for war. Whether or not this being also survived Titan’s fall, there is no way he could stand against Thanos.

Maw swallows hard, a lump in his throat. “Yes, Father. I will tell him to meet you outside Parthax. And I will tell my siblings that we are to remain here.”

“Thank you, son.”

Maw lets out a shaky breath and nods.

He should say nothing more. Should return to the duties that he has accepted with no further foolish chatter. But one thing weighs heavy on him, and he cannot resist speaking again.

“This man—this Titan—is someone you knew.”

Thanos nods, apparently willing to indulge his son’s whim. “His name is Eros,” he says, his lip curling into a wry smirk. “He’s my little brother.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids have their orders. 
> 
> None of them like this.
> 
> Thanks to Sidetic for beta.

Ebony Maw scowls. The membranes at his temples twitch, and his steepled fingers press too hard against each other. “We have our orders.”

Corvus peers out at him from the shadow he’s picked to lurk in. It isn’t strictly necessary, not now that this… Eros has chosen to leave them alone for the moment. But it’s good practice, and it helps to calm him.

“Eldest,” he says, keeping his voice soft and respectful. “Are you certain of this?”

The Maw glares directly into the shadow Corvus is lurking in. “Our lord father made his wishes perfectly clear. We are to remain here.”

“That’s not what he meant,” Proxima says. Corvus shoots her a look. It isn’t what he meant, but they don’t need to be making that obvious.

“I don’t like it,” Gamora says.

Cull nods. “We all saw what that man—what that _other Titan—_ can do.”

Now it’s the Maw’s turn to glower. Cull doesn’t show fear often, and ever since Thanos claimed him and Corvus, he’s let their elder sibling do most of the thinking for him.

“Those very abilities are why we have been told to remain,” says Nebula. “But I do not like it either.”

“He might need us,” Gamora says, balancing her switchblade on her fingers in that way she does when she’s uneasy. Corvus is glad of it. Not so much that his sibling is upset—though on occasion seeing her vexed is satisfying—but that it means Father’s favorite is uncomfortable too.

Ebony Maw stares at her. “The Great Titan needs nothing.” His lip curls, and he spits the words. “Least of all from us, who do him no honor when his enemies can disarm us at will.”

Corvus blinks. _You said that too quickly, brother. And too loudly._

“That isn’t what Gamora meant,” says Proxima. Who really ought not to be smirking about it, but… she is right. The corner of Corvus’s mouth turns up too.

“Then what did she mean?”

“He is a Titan,” Corvus says and steps out of the shadow. “And for endless centuries, Father has believed himself the last.”

Nebula nods. “Alone.”

“And you think,” the Maw says, a glitter of needles floating out from his robes, “that he will not be able to cope with this on his own?”

Proxima sidles over to him, heedless of the threatening display. Corvus isn’t sure whether to feel pride or exasperation. “We think, sibling, that even our lord father has emotions.”

Maw narrows his eyes at her. “And you think that I—?”

“We’re going,” says Cull.

Once again, Corvus is glad of it.

“Or at least I am.” That’s Gamora, her hand on the hilt of her folded-up sword, her toy knife tucked away. “If Father forgives any of us for this, it’ll be me.”

“If you do this thing,” Nebula says, stepping forward, “you will need a pilot.”

“Sister, no! He’d never let you!”

“He will blame me for all of it, whether I remain or not.” She snickers. “And this planet is dull. And I am bored.”

“We’re all going,” says Proxima. Corvus should say something, but again… he’s glad of it. More than he should be with his elder brother waving needles at people.

Gamora turns on her heel, done with the whole business apparently. But the Maw makes a gesture— _too forcefully,_ Corvus thinks again—and she gets only a few steps down the alley before she freezes, held fast by an invisible barrier.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Ebony Maw says.

“You’ve got to—” Proxima says, moving too. Corvus rushes toward her. _Maw is right,_ he thinks, with a sudden surge of concern. He should stop her, should let their lord father handle this as he wills. What can they do? He couldn’t persuade Eros with words, couldn’t strike him down with a magical weapon pulled from legend, couldn’t even lean on his siblings’ protection…

“Got to be kidding,” he finishes for Proxima as his own feet stick fast to the floor. He clutches at his weapon, half ready to strike back, half recoiling at the thought of battling his own sibling. This isn’t a sparring match, and… he owes much to his elder, and they all know it.

“You cannot possibly hold all of us, sibling,” says Nebula, shooting him a glare while she still can.

“All you’re doing is—” Gamora starts.

“Giving yourself a headache,” Cull finishes.

“Stay out of this,” Maw snarls at him.

“I know you,” Cull says, straining against the hold. Maw’s temples pulse with the effort of holding him back. “And I’m sorry, brother.”

“You...?”

“I think they’re right.”

 _“ <Idiot,>_” Maw says and growls again. But it’s Gamora he looks at, and Gamora whose arms and legs jerk, suddenly free of the force pressing against them. “Fine then. You go. You explain all of this, if you think our lord’s favor will make that possible for you.”

Gamora doesn’t bother to look back.

“Eldest,” Corvus says.

“We’re all going,” says Proxima. Her spear flickers with energy and Corvus sees Maw wince again. “If he does need us…”

“Then he needs more than just _her_ ,” Nebula says. With more relish than Corvus thinks she ought, but he has to admit he understands it.

“Eldest,” he says.

The Maw jerks his head in Corvus’s direction. He stares back, refusing to give ground, but in the corner of his eye he sees Proxima nod.

“You want to come with us,” Corvus says.

“I want to do what?” If the membranes at his temples twitched before, they’re pulsing now.

“You want to come with us,” Corvus says again.

“I would _never—_!”

“Just because you’re willing to obey doesn’t mean you want to.”

“You’re gonna hurt yourself,” Cull says. He shakes his head, so vigorously it must mean their sibling let him go.

“What use are you to our lord father with a headache?” Nebula puts in, her voice threaded through with exaggerated scorn.

He lets go of her so fast she spins on her half-metal leg to keep her balance.

“I did not agree to this,” the Maw says, snatching up the hem of his robes and hastening—on foot—down the cobbled path. He lifts one hand to his head, as if to soothe some hurt, then scowls at himself and lowers it again.

“We know it,” Corvus says, and favors his elder sibling with the most solemn nod he can manage under the circumstances. “We will say as much.”

“When we get back,” says Proxima, rounding a corner and looking up at their craft, whose door is ajar and whose launch ramp shimmers with the energy of the transporter.

“There’s a seat in the back,” Gamora calls from somewhere above them.

“If anyone asks, I grabbed you and shoved you in it,” says Cull.

Maw shakes his head and expels a violent sigh, but lets the beam take him. Sighing too, Corvus follows.


End file.
